


He speaks and it's flame

by Malapropian



Series: Tumblr fics [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dreamsharing, Empathy, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, Psychic Bond, Season One Divergence, Tumblr Fic, dreams about burning alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 14:37:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5669584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malapropian/pseuds/Malapropian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s no reason for him to feel a bone-deep horror—as though something has just gone terribly wrong in the universe. He doesn’t know any Peters. If anything should make him scream names into the night, then it should be his mother. But no. He gets random dude’s names. <em>Peter.</em> Whoever that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He speaks and it's flame

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the 5 minute/no edit fic meme. I went a little over 5 minutes, and I made a few changes before throwing this on ao3. Consider this fic pure and untouched by any beta. I'm sure there are still mistakes. I can just about guarantee it. 
> 
> I thought about expanding or continuing the story, but then I'd need to explain what the fuck is going on here... and that's about when I dropped the idea.
> 
> *shrugs* Who knows. Maybe I'll come back to it if I can think of something that isn't painfully contrived. I do love empath stuff and S1 divergences.

One night, nothing special or different about it, Stiles wakes up from a dead sleep. His throat is raw, and he has tears and snot running down his face, smearing his pillow. There’s no reason for him to feel a bone-deep horror—as though something has just gone terribly wrong in the universe. He doesn’t know any Peters. If anything should make him scream names into the night, then it should be his mother. But no. He gets random dude’s names. _Peter._ Whoever that is.

Month after month, it continues. There’s no schedule. No cycle. Stiles can’t exactly set his watch by it, but he hasn’t skipped a month since it started. Sometimes there is no name. Those are the bad nights. It’s just waking in agony. Sweating and crying in desperate pain. It’s fire and blood and the intimate knowledge of what it feels like for his skin to crisp and blacken, for fat and muscles to bubble.

There are lots of reasons he pushes a healthy diet on his dad. A temporary aversion to the smell of cooking flesh is only one.

Sometimes—all the time—he wonders what the hell is going on. He wonders if Peter is real. Maybe he’s just going crazy like his mom. There’s no running away from your genetics.

He makes himself forget that Beacon Hills only has one living burn victim named Peter. It’s not like this is real. He has enough shit to deal with… it’s easy enough to ignore. Just push it down and deny deny deny. After all, it’s only pain.

But now. Fuck. Now everything makes a sick sort of sense in a world where werewolves are real and running around. Stiles watches, almost like a spectator in his own body, as burn victim, coma patient, _alpha werewolf_ Peter Hale smiles placidly like he didn’t just throw his nephew aside like so much garbage. It’s a good smile, despite the scars. It should be comforting. It’s really really not. Maybe because all of this is proof that Stiles has some messed up psychic-bond to a dangerous psychopath.

He’s staring at the man, transfixed and open-mouthed. He can’t seem to make himself move as Peter reaches out to him with that gentle smile still on his face. Stiles’ stomach swoops and churns. He really might throw up any second, and then maybe Peter won’t be so nice. All of that races through his mind in the seconds before Peter says, “You must be Stiles.”

And that’s it. Those four words are all it takes for him to consider a whole host of options that aren’t “kill the alpha ASAP”.

Stiles has been burning with Peter ever since that first night. It’s a weird way to get to know someone, but he can’t deny that it was revealing, intimate. He does know Peter, better than most can claim. Stiles can understand Peter’s motives. Maybe approve of it a little. Probably a lot if you ask him right after a dream. It’s not _fair_. None of it’s fair, but fair has never been part of the equation. And right now, he’s pretty sure that Peter’s going to win it all. 

The problem here is that Stiles knows himself. As much as he likes to ignore things and deny problems. Stiles knows he prefers to be on the winning team as often as possible. Just like he knows that if Peter turns that understanding on him too many times, he’ll fold like a deck of cards and follow him anywhere. He won’t be able to resist having someone else who gets it. Someone who knows what it’s like for your blood to boil inside your own body _and not die_. For that, Stiles will gift wrap the rest of the targets. He’ll convince Scott that Peter’s a swell dude. All to be the focus of Peter’s stupid smile and eyes and empathy.

And maybe he'll find enough willpower to not be the worst kind of sellout. He could still choose to fight against Peter and his plans, but the sinking feeling in his stomach tells him that it doesn’t matter. Either way, Stiles is fucked.

**Author's Note:**

> **Originally posted November 6, 2015.**
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> Don't be afraid to let me know if I need more tags or if there's a horrible mistake. Thanks for reading!


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